


Summer at Camp Kieve

by sadiered



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, F/F, Summer Camp, it's not a slowburn if it's less than 100k words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:15:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22884628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadiered/pseuds/sadiered
Summary: Both Santana and Brittany are camp counselors at a summer camp in Maine. There's an obvious attraction, but they're both super competitive so they use the challenges between their assigned cabins for flirting until neither one can stand it anymore. Written for the 2015 Brittanacon Prompt Project.
Relationships: Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	Summer at Camp Kieve

Santana Lopez looked down at the row of twelve sets of eyes, all staring up at her big and wide and waiting for instruction. She still wasn't quite sure how she got here, standing in the middle of the forest, on the side of a lake, in the state of Maine, in charge of not one but twelve little campers for the full three weeks of camp. When Mercedes had first mentioned the idea of Santana applying for a job that summer at the camp she had worked at for the past few years, Santana had laughed-a full hearty laugh-for several seconds. But Mercedes had kept talking, and before she knew what was happening, Santana was filling out an application and sending it in, and then she was buying a plane ticket to Maine.

Right from the start, things hadn't quite gone the way that Santana expected, and the first hour felt like she was being thrown for loop after loop. The director of the camp seemed appropriately kooky, but several steps up on the cool ladder. Santana had figured she'd probably be in one of the two-counselor bunks that Mercedes had talked about, slightly down the hill and definitely out of earshot from the campers' cabins. It would be fun, especially if she got paired with Mercedes.

But Holly hadn't brought her down over the hill. Instead, they'd taken a left from the drive and headed towards the little semi-circle of cabin houses, to where the campers slept. Holly walked right up to the second cabin, just to the left of the middle, and brought Santana up the three steps to the small porch. There was a chickadee painted on the door.

Holly had explained that she was going to be a cabin counselor, in charge of the youngest campers--eight-year-olds, mostly, with a couple of seven-year-olds and nine-year-olds as well. She said that Mercedes had recommended Santana, both for the cabin position and the youngest campers, and Santana wondered what Maine laws were going to keep her from accidentally drowning Mercedes in the lake later. She certainly wasn't cut out to be a summertime mom, and especially not to the babies of the camp. But Holly didn't give time for protest and left Santana to settle in.

The biggest loop came at the end of the hour when the staff gathered in the dining hall. Santana had taken all of twenty minutes to unpack everything in her bag and organize it, twice, until she was perfectly satisfied, so she managed to find Mercedes and get to the dining hall before just about all the rest of the staff. She was still threatening Mercedes' life when this brilliant laugh interrupted her whispered tirade, and she turned around to see this absolute _goddess_. She had this long blonde hair and these bright blue eyes and a perfect brush of freckles on her cheeks, and, god, the way that her standard-issue Camp Kieve Staff shirt clung to every curve and plane of her body like some Italian designer had built it to do just that...

During introductions and team building, as well as the long days of informational sessions that followed, Santana learned that the goddess was named Brittany and that she was in charge of the Maine Coon Cat Cabin, the last one on the semi-circle, right to the left of Santana's. In two weeks, it would be populated by twelve girls between the ages of twelve and thirteen. She also learned that Brittany was good at tennis and hiking and dance and probably everything else in the world, too. She was funny and kind and witty and sharp. And _god_ , she was so ridiculously hot. Just absolutely the most stunning woman that Santana had ever seen.

Somehow, Santana made it through the rest of orientation, even the handful of times that she had to somehow speak to Brittany directly, and she only spent six of the fourteen nights lying on Mercedes' cabin floor and complaining about how Mercedes got her into this mess and telling the cabin's other occupant, Jane, that she had better get out of there while she could, before Mercedes ruined her life, too.

By the time Sunday rolled around, the kids' arrival was welcome. Things were hectic all day. Santana felt like she gave the tour of the Chickadee cabin twenty times, despite only having twelve campers. But soon, they were all settled, from Samantha who was upset not to be in Marley's Lobster Cabin across the way with her older friend from last year; to Ruby and Gracie, the eight-year-old twins who insisted that they not be in the same bunk bed; from Katelyn who wore thick glasses and even had prescription goggles for swimming; to Riley, a seven-year-old who looked way too tiny to be at camp for three weeks; and Peyton, a seven-year-old who would turn eight next week and looked nine now. There were Paige and Makayla, who were thankfully already friends and Ava and Layla, who were thrilled to be able to snag one of the two bunk beds in the corner. There was Nicole, who was afraid of heights and, of course, came last when there was only a top bunk free, and wonderful Reagan, who overheard Nicole and said her first words to Santana since she had arrived three hours earlier: "She can switch with me."

In the craziness, Brittany was pushed to the back of Santana's mind as she got used to her first night actually being in charge. There were a few campers that cried and a few that had to be told to go to sleep, but it was better than she thought, even if she ended up sleeping really lightly with the door open a crack, just in case.

But after a day or two of fun camp orientation games and crafts, the distraction of twelve little girls wasn't such a distraction. Especially not when they parked her on the field to try to get a bunch of flowers to weave into her thick dark hair and Santana had to stay perfectly still and watch Brittany, with a backwards baseball cap and shorts that had to be inappropriately short, grinning as she played basketball with several of her campers.

So, a little later that day, standing in part of the forest with the ropes course, listening to Holly give another reminder that this was a friendly competition between cabins, Santana decided, quite firmly, that she needed to throw her all into these competitions because otherwise she was just going to obsess over Brittany.

The challenge was a teamwork exercise, getting over a section of the low ropes in the shortest amount of time, winner getting five points, all the way down to the loser (final place team, as Holly said) who would be getting one. The cabin with the most points at the end of camp would get a prize. Santana was already sure that no one expected her little Chickadees to win, neither the challenge nor the overall competition, but that just made her more fiercely dedicated to this task. Besides, people were seriously underestimating her little birds. She was pretty sure she'd caught Ruby doing freaking one-armed chin-ups on the bunks before breakfast the other day. These kids had fight and strength.

"Okay," she said, gesturing them all close, "here's what we're going to do."

Santana whispered to them for close to a minute, checking carefully to make sure that everyone knew what she was supposed to do and how it was all supposed to come together. The counselors drew lots to see the order that they would be going in. First was Rachel's Salmon Cabin, full of ten and eleven-year-old campers, who got a bad case of the giggles half way through. Rachel's micromanaging just seemed to set them off again and again, and it was a pretty dismal time. Holly commended them on their spirit. Then Marley's Lobsters stepped up to go. They were just a bit older than Santana's kids, all nine and some of the younger ten-year-olds. They were more focused than the Salmons, but a little less coordinated. Still, they made a respectable time. The third to go was the oldest group made up of fourteen, fifteen, and sixteen-year-olds, lead by Sugar of the Moose Cabin. They got way into it, sticking their hands up to their heads like antlers and doing their best moose bellow, before diving headlong into the course. Overconfidence and gravity-shifting growth spurts kept them from setting a lead that couldn't be matched.

Brittany's cabin was finally up, and Santana actually felt a prickle in her stomach as she watched them get ready, though she wasn't sure if it was nerves or excitement or what. The Maine Coon Cats were very fast and coordinated. Santana knew they would be hard to beat, especially since Brittany had come up with a similar strategy to Santana's own. However, Santana knew it was still possible for them to take the lead because the ropes would hardly bend under the weight of most of her kids. It was going to be much easier for them.

Finally, Santana's Chickadees were up, and she got them set at the start and then stood back, watching and offering encouragement but wanting their victory to be theirs. Her plan worked perfectly, with each girl doing exactly what she was supposed to, and, when the last little sneaker landed back on the pine needle and dirt floor of the woods, Holly announced that the Chickadees had come in a full three seconds under Brittany's Maine Coon Cats, making them the winners.

The high pitched screams were deafening, and Santana couldn't help but laugh as twelve sets of arms tackled her down to the ground in excitement. She caught sight of Brittany's face as she lay on the ground and was startled by the look of genuine happiness on her face.

The sinking feeling in her stomach told her that the challenges might not be enough.

* * *

Brittany was so excited to go to summer camp. She had gone to a handful of day camps in her hometown when she was little: ballet camp and soccer camp and get-my-kid-out-of-the-house-before-I-go-crazy camp at the Y. When she was a teenager, she had even gone to cheer camp, also known as August from Hell camp. But Brittany had never been to this kind of classic summer camp. She had never made s'mores by a fire with her cabin mates or gone swimming in the morning and hiking at night or learned camp songs during dinners in the mess hall. She had never had whispered conversations in a bunk bed with another girl under the light of a flashlight until a grumpy teenaged counselor told them to be quiet and go to sleep.

Around the time that Brittany was old enough to start thinking about sleep-away camp, her mother and father started to have to go to meetings at the school. These meetings always ended in a big hug for Brittany, a tired and pinched look for her mother, a near-silent evening for her father, and a tutor for the summer. Brittany couldn't go to summer camp because her parents were afraid of the academic slide that might happen if she went away for three weeks like that, with almost nothing school-related happening in the interim. They wanted the best for her, and it seemed like the best thing was to keep Brittany in her best mind.

Their strategy appeared to work, at least some, because Brittany always made it through to the next year, and each year she became a little more competent on the kind of things that her teachers were looking for, the answers they wanted, and the ways that they wanted her to solve the problems. But, the hard part was that each year, her reputation got a little stronger too, and she still had to fight the eye rolls and the expectations and sometimes even the flat denial that her mind had any worth.

Then, in her senior year, amidst talks of a repeat year and phrases like "super senior," Brittany pulled out the highest standardized score the whole county had ever seen. Her teachers were shocked, and her parents were furious. It took no time at all before Brittany was guaranteed the right to march at her high school graduation.

But it took even less time for her to be accepted into seventeen different colleges.

Facing her first summer ever where she could go away, her first tutor free summer in at least ten years, Brittany knew exactly what she wanted to do. She had been listening to Quinn talk about Kieve since the first cheer camp before their freshman year of high school, and she wanted to go herself. Of course, she was several years too old to actually attend the camp, but she was allowed to be a counselor, and so she had filled out the application and waited with almost as much excitement as her college acceptances.

Then a few weeks after walking in that bright red cap and gown, Brittany was being shown to the Maine Coon Cabin. She let her fingers brush over the painting on the doorway and barely waited for Holly to leave the cabin before changing into her brand new t-shirt.

Quinn was easy to find (especially since Brittany was pretty sure she had almost the whole campus already memorized), and she introduced Brittany to a few of the other counselors who had been there before, namely Tina, her bunkmate, and Sugar, a blunt and bubbly girl that Brittany took an instant liking to.

They headed into the dining hall, with Brittany laughing at a joke Tina had told and sat down to listen to Holly talk about camp and their purpose and a whole lot of really great stuff about helping girls to be their best selves. Brittany took three pages of notes, and the next morning, she made nameplates for each of the girls, spending the time before breakfast carefully coloring swirls and coon cats in her crayons, spelling out the names of Savannah, Madison, Sophie, Camila, Adrianna, Brooklyn, Melanie, Lilly, Erin, Lindsey, Miranda, and Alanna.

At a session later that day, Quinn and Brittany ended up at a table with a few other staff members that Brittany had only met from afar. One was Mercedes, who knew Quinn from past summers and began to talk to her immediately. The other was Santana. Brittany knew her name. She had been mostly listening as the other counselors gave their short introductions the day before, flipping through the packet of information that she had been given at the same time, but then this girl, Santana, had said her name, and there was just something about her voice. It had poured over Brittany like sun-warmed honey, seeping into every inch of her.

Brittany had looked up immediately and found the woman who was speaking. Her tan skin was lit with a touch of pink on her cheeks already, and Brittany wondered if that was from the sun or if she was embarrassed to speak in front of everyone. It was hard to get a clear read on her. She spoke with an edge of sarcasm, but she chose her words carefully. And she was truly stunning.

"Some lucky girls in the Chickadee cabin," Brittany had murmured as she turned to doodling suns and birds on the edges of her paper.

It wasn't until two weeks later that Brittany knew that she understood Santana when she looked up from a pile of screeching eight-year-olds, with the most adorably happy smile, all deep dimples and scrunched up nose. Honey wasn't far off. She was a beehive: buzzy and scary if you didn't understand, but the sweetest treasure when you did.

And she was still hot, too.

That was why Brittany was so happy to see that swimming was the next competition in the contest between the cabins. Santana had said that she was a registered lifeguard at home and Brittany had observed the little line of Chickadees, following Santana like a mother duck, as they went to practice their strokes during free times over the past few days. She liked the spirit they had, and, if it wasn't going to be her girls, then Santana's definitely deserved it.

When the day of the competition rolled around, it wasn't perfect weather for it. The sky was a little overcast and a breeze blew across the lake. It would be cold for the girls getting out of the water, but that was why this race was always one of the quicker ones so that if it fell on a bad weather day, no one would suffer for long. The counselors all lined their girls up along the dock, and, one at a time, they would have a girl dive in and swim down to the next dock and back, by any stroke that she wanted. Then she would tag the next teammate. Counselors were there to keep things moving smoothly and safely.

Holly lined them up along the dock, with the youngest closest to the shore and the oldest furthest away, then they screamed a count-down as a camp, and Holly blew her whistle. The first five girls leaped in, and the race began. Just like with the ropes before, three of the cabins quickly established themselves as out of the running.

Somehow, some of the campers in the Moose cabin had gotten the brilliant idea to try to swim with their hands up by their heads like antlers. It was not a particularly fast, nor productive way to swim, but it was supported by the rest of the cabin, who laughed and cheered their teammates on with bellows. By the time some of them switched back to regular stroking, it wasn't going to do any good to make up their lead.

Marley's Lobster girls were doing fairly well, but it was obvious that some of them were still not quite comfortable with the whole process, swimming with awkward strokes or reluctant to dive in.

Rachel's Salmon would have easily been living up to their name, except Rachel kept shouting directions to her girls who were swimming, and each time the swimmer would pop her head up and pause in her stroking and kicking, trying to hear what Rachel was saying.

Brittany's own Maine Coons were holding their own. They had strong, sure strokes and the right mix of focus and fun.

Over on the end of the dock, it was clear that Santana's time with the Chickadees had helped them out immensely. Each girl had her own stroke that she looked comfortable with, and they were different from one girl to the next. Though some girls plugged their noses first, each made an easy dive into the water. It was difficult to tell who was in the lead.

Finally, Brittany cheered as her last swimmer dove off the dock and turned just in time to see the splash of Santana's doing the same. There were still three of the Moose Cabin girls, two Lobsters, and four Salmon girls. On shore, girls in towels and sweatshirts with wet hair jumped up and down and screamed, half for the fun of screaming and half for the excitement of the race almost being over. Coursing through the lake in front of her was Brittany's Miranda, her strong arms pulling her through the water quickly. Brittany glanced over to see which of the Chickadee girls was up, and she was disappointed to find timid Ava. But as she watched and heard Santana, shouting such earnest praise, Ava put on speed, zipping through the water. It was going to be close. Brittany looked back and forth between Miranda and Ava as they drew closer, too far apart to tell who was ahead. Twenty feet away, now ten, now five. Miranda gave one last heave and her hand slapped down on the dock. Brittany whipped around to look at Santana and saw Ava's little hand, pressed down to the wood. Everyone turned to look at Holly who blinked for a moment and then said, "Tie!"

While the other girls finished their swim, Holly tried to figure out what to do with a tie. Finally, after everyone had finished and been cheered for, Holly called Santana and Brittany over. "I think the options are, ladies, either take four points each or swim it out yourselves."

Brittany looked at Santana and then her huddled cabin over on the hill. "I say swim it out," she said with a shrug and a little smirk Santana's way. If she had been reading everything right, Santana wouldn't want to let down her Chickadees, and she should agree.

"I'm in," Santana said almost before Brittany could finish the thought in her head.

"Okay, let's do this," Holly said, a huge grin on her face. While she announced what was going on to the rest of the camp, Brittany started to strip off her sweatshirt and shorts. She'd worn her bathing suit in case her girls got any funny ideas and ended up pushing her in. Brittany wondered if Santana, who was doing the same thing, had worn hers for the same reason, or if she had been worried enough about her campers to prepare herself in case one of them needed her to dive in. She was wearing a modest black one-piece, but it looked so good.

Holly stood on the dock between Brittany and Santana, a whistle ready. "Okay, one lap, first back to the dock wins the whole thing. On your mark, get set—" Brittany crouched a little, arms ready, waiting for it. The piercing whistle ripped through the air beside her, and Brittany jumped.

The water was cold, almost shocking her as she hit it, but she glided under the surface for a moment before breaking up and swimming with all of her might. Brittany knew that Santana had been a lifeguard and she was going to be hard to beat at this. She could just see the splash of Santana's kicking feet up ahead, and Brittany pushed on, hoping to use her long limbs to her favor. It worked as they turned and headed back towards the dock. The screams of the whole camp bounced around in the water, and Brittany turned her head to gasp for air, her eyes meeting Santana's for a moment. They were almost head to head, neck in neck, closing in on the dock. But in that one moment, when their eyes met, Santana sucked in a mouthful of water and Brittany couldn't even stop before her hand was pressed up against the worn wood of the dock. Santana appeared a moment later, coughing hard and gasping for air, but she pushed Holly's hand away, insisting between breaths that she was fine and that Brittany had won fair and square.

Celebrating with her girls, Brittany just caught sight of Santana telling each one of her little Chickadees how well they had done, and she felt her heart thrum in her chest.

* * *

For a couple of days after the fiasco at the lake, Santana tried to avoid Brittany as much as possible. It wasn't that she was mad at Brittany for winning, even if Rachel and Brittany's friend Quinn's creepy doppelgänger kept insisting that she was being a sore loser.

The truth was that Santana was mad at herself. She could have won that race. Her Chickadees had deserved it, had earned it, coming in a tie with Brittany's team, who were all much older and stronger, with way more swimming experience than her kids. But in that one moment, Santana had turned her head to get a breath of air, and she had caught sight of Brittany. She looked so gorgeous and primal and otherworldly, like a true goddess, that Santana had breathed in some of the lake instead. She had let her stupid feelings for someone she was going to know for about ten seconds ruin what was supposed to be a perfect streak to the end.

But today that was coming to an end, because today she was going on a hike with the Chickadees, the Maine Coon Cats, and the Salmons. Santana had tossed and turned through the whole night, so as she climbed out of the bus, she gripped her extra mug full of coffee a little tighter. Mercedes had pressed it into her hand with an understanding smile.

The first thirty minutes or so passed in relative peace. Rachel was lecturing about different animals to her group and probably only getting about one in three things wrong, speaking at a volume that would only scare away three-quarters of forest animals. Eventually, Santana pulled ahead a bit, with most of the Chickadees and several of Brittany's Maine Coons as well. Most of the rest had pushed even further ahead with Madison the Counselor, as she had been called due to the large number of Madison campers as well. Brittany was somewhere up with them, and Sunshine was bringing up the rear, catching any stragglers who strayed from Rachel's lecture.

Once she had hiked to a point where Rachel's voice had faded behind the silly chatter of a bunch of excited girls, Santana tried to just focus on her coffee and her girls. It worked for a while, but there was suddenly a very different voice in her ear, murmuring, "I hope she knows that she's been talking about a rock for the past ten minutes." Santana gasped and dropped her coffee, which would have made her cry if Brittany had not somehow managed to catch it.

"What?" Santana asked, her tone softer than it might have been, thanks to Brittany's miraculous catch.

"Rachel's been going on and on about a whale that she might have glimpsed out there," Brittany said, keeping her voice low as she waved her hand vaguely out towards the sea. Neither one of them wanted to do anything to hurt Rachel's standing with the other campers, not that she needed any help with that anyway. "But it was definitely a rock. A big rock, but a rock."

Santana laughed behind her coffee cup and shook her head slightly. Brittany smiled back, and Santana looked down at the trail, trying to ignore the thud in her chest.

"Hey, I'm sorry about the other day," Brittany said after a moment of silence between them. "I should have stopped or called a rematch or something. I saw that you breathed in lake water."

"No," Santana shook her head with a sigh. She couldn't let Brittany apologize for her bad behavior. "I'm sorry. I've been kind of rude since. I wasn't mad at you, I was—" Santana broke off to make sure that her kiddos weren't listening. They didn't need to know this. "I was mad at myself," she admitted. "They voluntarily gave up their free time for two days, even Sammy who usually spends it with her friend in Lobster Cabin, and then I went and blew it in the last second because I can't keep my—" Santana broke off again, her cheeks feeling hot in a way that had nothing to do with climbing up this little mountain. "I let them down, is all."

"But you didn't," Brittany insisted softly. "Just take a look at them! They all look at you like you're the second coming of Taylor Swift. I think you could probably get any one of them to fly back home with you, even if they had to live under your bed like sardines."

For a moment, Santana warred with herself, wanting to insist that Brittany was wrong, that she wasn't good at this, and that the kids probably only liked her because she wasn't totally uncool like some of the counselors that they could have gotten. But Makayla and Paige had made her another daisy chain that was looped haphazardly around her neck, and Reagan had given her five of the M&M's out of her trail mix, and Ruby and Gracie had sat next to each other at breakfast that morning so that they could both be at her table. "Okay," Santana said, her voice small and soft but warm and strong. "Thank you."

"Of course," Brittany answered, the same smooth sweet tone present in her own words. It would have been a nice moment, except Santana tripped over a root and only stayed on her feet because Brittany grabbed her this time. "Come on," Brittany said with a laugh, once Santana was steady, "Let's put on some speed before we're forced to learn about the great wooden squirrel or something."

Santana grinned and followed.

* * *

Brittany liked how things were in the next few days after the hike. Santana said hi to her at breakfast, and she had been left several of the famous daisy chains, draped over the railing of her cabin after free time one day. Santana still didn't hang out with her a whole lot, but Brittany at least saw her around more again.

It was a little different, too, being a cabin counselor, because their free time came in the middle of the day, while the others were running activities with the kids, which didn't provide a whole lot of time or opportunity for hanging out.

Still, it wasn't long before it was time for another challenge, and when Brittany understood what the challenge was, she knew who would win it. They were going to have to set up a tent with two sleeping bags, using a tag team system, where each pair of kids would get forty-five seconds to work before the next two would tag in. Only one person was organized and determined enough to use the head-start to her best potential.

Brittany worked a little with her campers, running through the steps of putting together a tent with them and letting them pick a buddy, but she knew that it wasn't enough the moment she saw the Chickadees march in, two by two, with Santana bringing up the rear like a goddamn Madeline book.

After a brief introduction by Holly, the whistle signaled the start of the challenge. Brittany's Maine Coons fumbled a few times but kept a pretty steady progress. Sugar's Moose caught a fit of the giggles and kept dropping the tent pieces. Marley's Lobsters put some of the poles together wrong and had to take one section down again. Rachel's Salmon were arguing in their pairs.

But Santana's little Chickadees were like machines, with each little pair of girls running out holding hands at Holly's whistle, slapping high fives with the pair leaving, perfecting something in the forty-five seconds, and then jogging back out again. It only took twice through the line before their tent was perfectly pitched on a tarp, their sleeping bags resting inside on top of foam mats, and someone had even finished it off with a daisy-chain draped over the door. They were sitting in their same two-by-two line giggling as Santana smirked from behind them. Holly let the contest run for a little while longer, finally capping it at fifteen minutes even though Marley and Rachel's cabins hadn't quite finished.

Brittany smiled fondly as the Chickadees broke their perfect form to jump up and down, screaming happily as they were once again named the winners.

—

The next few days of camp were hectic. The Lobsters and the Salmon were getting ready for their overnight trip with Holly, Sunshine, Kitty, Unique, and Madison the Counselor. The whole camp came to wave them off as they departed in canoes and kayaks. Soon after they left, Rachel headed out to take her night off away from the camp, since her dads had a beach house nearby. Marley, who usually hung with Kitty and Unique, spent some time with Santana in her cabin, telling the kids stories and letting them make up their own.

Santana had to be a lot more involved in the activities the next day, which she didn't mind at all. These activities included getting to go on ropes courses with her campers. They begged her to do the high-fifty, a fifty foot tall telephone pole with rungs to climb. At the top, Santana had to stand, with nothing at all to hold onto, and then jump for a trapeze dangling above her. It was petrifying, but the screams of encouragement from below her made her legs somehow work as she leaped and wrapped her hands around the thin bar. The cheering didn't stop the whole time she was lowered down, and Santana's heart felt so full.

Even with all of the fun that they were having, Santana was glad when Holly was back and things were running a little closer to normal. That also meant, however, that they had another challenge that was coming up, and this one was in the mess hall. Holly hadn't told them what it was before, so Santana couldn't prepare her campers, but she knew they were smart, and they would do well.

Holly explained, finally, what they were going to do. They were given some newspaper, and tape and had to build a structure that could hold as many books as possible, six inches off the ground, without breaking. Counselors were allowed to plan with their campers and give verbal instructions during building, but could not actually build anything themselves.

Santana, for the first time in one of the challenges, felt a little out of her league. She hadn't been brilliant at this kind of stuff in school, and her little Chickadees were too young to have done much of this in their own schools either. Still, she would do the best that she could for them. Quickly, they talked through the things that could make the newspaper strong enough to hold the books, rolling or folding it up small, and then using it to make the strongest shape. Santana knew what that was, of course, after years in cheerleading, and, by the time the planning phase was over, the Chickadees knew what they were making. For the whole twenty-minute construction period, Santana hardly looked up from the table as she paced around, taking in what was going on, offering encouragement and advice. Peyton and Riley, the two youngest, turned out to be the most adept at rolling the newspaper into tiny, strong little tubes that Makayla and Paige, with all of their daisy-chain experience, and Katelyn, who turned out to be some sort of construction wiz, wove into a strong little structure. Santana had no idea how it would work, but she was proud of them all the same.

Next came the books. Holly, with the assistance of Quinn and Tina, stacked the books on top of each structure, pausing for a few seconds after each book to see if it would hold. When the stack would tumble the books were weighed. First up was Marley's Lobsters, whose structure flattened under the weight of eleven pounds of books. Next came Rachel's Salmon who squeaked by them with twelve. Sugar's Moose were next, and though they had added antlers to their structure, the fact that they were older students paid off, and their structure was able to support thirty-four pounds of books. The bellows were deafening until Sugar and Holly got them to settle down again.

Santana's team was next, and Layla and Nicole brought the structure up to the front. They began piling books on top, and Santana felt two little hands press into hers on either side. The stack got sizable, but Santana didn't think it would be enough to beat the Moose. It wasn't, as it turned out, but they still managed to support twenty-seven pounds.

Brittany's was up next, and Santana thought the design that they'd come up with was somehow both unusual and plain at the same time. Almost fearfully, she sat in her huddle of warm little bodies, pressed close to her with their arms wrapped around her legs and waist and shoulders, and watched as book after book was stacked on. The books were stacked until Tina flinched every time a book was slide on, wary of the way the tower leaned and swayed a little bit. Santana watched Brittany's face as the books finally fell, not because the structure gave way, but because they just couldn't not balance in a free-standing stack that tall. All together, the books weighed ninety-three pounds, more than any one of the Chickadee campers.

Santana thought that Brittany's face looked vindicated, somehow, triumphant in a way that had little to do with points or Camp Kieve or anything like that, like there was something very far away that she had just defeated again. Santana's heart tugged, answering the call, but she forced herself to pay attention to the here and now and explaining why it was no big deal that they had come in third this time. She wanted the Chickadees to really understand how amazing it was that they had done so well, and that all she was ever looking for was their best, no matter if that was first or last place.

It took long enough that, by the time she looked up, Brittany had moved away.

* * *

A few days later, on the day that marked the end of the second week of camp, Brittany found herself in Quinn's cabin. It was Brittany's day off, a camp tradition that had been established a long time ago. Each cabin counselor had one evening off, other than the day their cabin was away on their trip. The campers of that cabin got to vote on their substitute counselor from a list of three, and whoever won would come for the night. At first, Brittany found it strange, but she understood better now. Other than just giving the counselors a break from having to be on duty all night long, it also allowed the campers a little time to learn from a different person, which was part of their purpose there.

Mercedes had won the vote for the Maine Coon cabin by a landslide, but Brittany had made sure to reach out to Unique and Sunshine, the other two choices, to see if they would stop by for a little bit before lights out, wanting her girls to have as many role models as possible. Mercedes had offered her bunk in the cabin with Jane, but Quinn and Tina had said they were fine with Brittany crashing with them, so Brittany decided to give Jane the night to herself.

Brittany was laying across Quinn's bed, her long legs propped up against the wall, as Quinn brushed her hair and Tina tried to put together a sample of the craft for the next day. "So, Britt," Tina started, after a lull in the conversation, unsticking her fingers from a popsicle stick. "What's going on with you and Mama Chickadee?" Quinn put her brush down on her desk and turned in the computer chair she'd somehow acquired so that she could face the bed, waiting for Brittany's answer.

Brittany sighed and shook her head. "There isn't anything going on," she answered firmly.

"But you would like there to be?" Quinn asked with a grin.

Brittany rolled her eyes. She would lie, but that would be a bigger conversation, and, besides, she wasn't ashamed of anything. "Ideally, yeah. She's pretty much amazing. But we're at a summer camp for little girls, not a college frat party, and I can't just like grab her in the middle of dinner or something. I don't know how out she is or anything like that." Brittany didn't even try to deny the obvious attraction between them, from either side, but it was silly to think that they could do anything about it.

"Anyway," Brittany added, rolling over onto her stomach so that she could see them easier, "this not-a-frat-party is ending soon, no matter how much fun I'm having, and she'll be disappearing off somewhere. So, short and dirty? Not happening. Long and emotional? Not happening. And therefore, by a number of mathematical properties and equations that you have to be a genius to understand, Santana and I? Not happening." Brittany flopped over onto her back again and covered her face with a pillow. "Tina," she added, her voice muffled by the pillow, "if you use the popsicle stick to scrape the glue instead of the paper, you'll stop sticking your fingers together."

Quinn and Tina exchanged looks but didn't say anything.

* * *

With four days left of camp, it was finally time for the Maine Coon and Chickadee cabins to go on their camping trips. Holly, Quinn, Mercedes, Jane, and Tina had left after lunch with twelve little two-person canoes following behind, each carrying a Chickadee and Maine Coon. Santana and Brittany had worked out the pairings over breakfast that morning, and Santana was confident that she had gotten them right, though she trusted Holly to adjust as need be. Any of the girls who might have fears that would haunt them during the trip, Santana had spoken to one on one at some point that morning, reminding them that they could speak to any one of the counselors, and suggesting one of her cabin mates, as well as one of the Maine Coon campers that she could speak to.

Now things were long since out of her hands. Night had fallen, bringing a sharp chill to the air and a sense of damp that came with being so close to the water on a chilly night. Santana spent several minutes sitting outside on the porch of her cabin, wrapped up in a Kieve sweatshirt. She had accidentally ordered it too large, but she didn't mind it now, tucking her cold legs into the soft, warm fabric. She could see the stars, pretty much without any interruptions other than trees, which made her hopeful that the girls wouldn't get rained on.

For a moment, Santana tried to convince herself to go back into her cabin, but honestly, it was too quiet in there. She had been pacing restlessly for close to an hour now and if she went back inside, she'd probably just drive herself crazy. She hadn't realized how much she would miss her girls if they were away for the night.

It didn't bode well for next week.

To stop herself from thinking, Santana pushed herself up off the stairs and started walking. She didn't know where she was headed until she found herself facing a painting of a Maine Coon cat. Before she could think too much about it and stop herself, Santana reached up and knocked.

There was a few moments of shuffling inside before Santana heard footsteps. She was about to give up and dive off the porch to avoid Brittany seeing her when the door opened. Brittany was standing there, her blonde hair loose and messy, haloing slightly in the dim light from the lamp behind her. The moonlight made her blue eyes sparkle, and Santana felt weak at the knees.

"It's really quiet in my cabin," Santana said quickly before anything else could come spilling out.

"Mine, too," Brittany said. She smiled for a moment before stepping back from the door. "Do you want to come in? I'm sure the mosquitos are eating you alive out there."

Santana hesitated but nodded, stepping through the door. It wasn't like anything would happen. It was just a distraction for a little bit until she could relax enough to go to bed. Brittany led her through the cabin, to her room in the back. It was obviously the same setup as Santana's Chickadee cabin. There were two bunk beds in the alcove on the left and four along the right wall. Two tiny bathrooms finished off the left wall, though the actual showers were in a different room. There were a few differences, mostly just the size of the shoes that were never neatly lined up, no matter how many times Santana reminded, and fewer daisy chains, which, by now, all of the girls knew how to make, though Santana wasn't sure how there were any more daisies to be found. Santana did notice a beautiful name card at the foot of each bed.

Brittany lead her back to her room. A soft lamp was lit on her desk, spilling over a textbook for some math subject. Brittany's bed was covered in blue sheets that looked really soft. A few jackets hung from hooks on the wall. The room seemed lived in without being messy.

Santana realized that she was probably doing too much staring and not enough talking, and she blushed a little bit. "Sorry, I think I'm just used to the noise of having so many little girls around. Even when they're asleep, they really aren't that quiet."

Brittany nodded, "I know what you mean. I don't know how many times I've said the phrase, 'You can finish that conversation in the morning,' but if I was getting paid based solely on that phrase, I'd probably still be making a bigger paycheck than I am now." Santana couldn't help but laugh at that as she leaned back against the footboard of Brittany's bed. Brittany did the same with the chair on her desk, leaning slightly so she was perched on the backrest. "It really wasn't even quiet the night that I got for their overnight with the other counselor, for me at least. Quinn snores, even if she won't admit it."

Santana shifted and shook her head, "I actually, uh, didn't—"

"Oh, that's right," Brittany said with a nod. "I remember. I heard about that"

Santana hadn't ended up taking her night off. It had happened a week ago, and everything seemed to be going the way it was supposed to. Between Jane, Kitty, and Tina, the kids had voted for Kitty, which Santana had her thoughts about, but apparently Kitty was "hilarious" during the tennis and cooking lessons she gave the kids. As she had been putting her bag together before dinner, Santana had heard a knock on her door and found little Riley there. Santana invited her in and was shocked when Riley started to cry. She told Santana that she didn't want her to leave for the night, and, after a moment of thought, Santana agreed not to. Instead, she'd stayed with Kitty and found out that she was very funny, and a lot dorkier than she seemed, which meant that Santana, with her own biting humor and distinct lack of actual cool, got along with her rather well.

So, this was the first night in two and a half weeks that Santana hadn't had twelve seven, eight, and nine-year-olds sleeping a few feet away, and it was deeply lonely.

Brittany pushed herself up and began to move closer, and Santana felt all of the thoughts of anything but this moment start to trickle out of her head. "I just wanted to say that I really admire how you've taken care of these kids these past few weeks," Brittany murmured as she moved closer, close enough so that Santana had to lift her head a little bit to keep eye contact. Close enough that she could see the freckles that had slowly gotten darker and more numerous over the summer, but were every bit as cute as before.

Close enough that Santana could feel the zap of electricity between them.

"It's kind of amazing," Brittany whispered, so close to Santana that when she breathed all she could smell was Brittany, and, god, it made her knees weak. She was glad that she wasn't standing straight because she might have actually swooned. Brittany was inches away now, leaning down slightly, her nose almost brushing against Santana. "You're kind of amazing." Brittany's mouth hovered over Santana's. "Can I?"

"Yes," Santana answered before she could think better of it.

Brittany's mouth pressed against hers, and it was earth-shattering. Santana felt her whole world turn around this single kiss, and she knew that, if she let herself, she could really freak out about what that meant.

But there was no distraction to go back to.

So Santana didn't. She let herself sink into Brittany, opening her mouth under the gentle nudge of Brittany's tongue. Santana slid her hands up back of Brittany's t-shirt as they kissed, resting her hands on the smooth skin at the small of her back. Brittany sucked on Santana's bottom lip, and it felt like the bottom dropped out of Santana's stomach in the best way. She let out a soft noise, kissing back, wanting the feeling to go on and on.

Brittany's mouth pressed to the corner of her mouth and then down to her jaw, teeth nipping gently, as she trailed kisses along her jawline and pressed soft, open kisses to Santana's neck. Santana rolled her head to the side, giving Brittany space to continue this magic, heat building in her chest and low in her belly. As Brittany's nose nudged the collar of Santana's sweatshirt, Santana made a decision. Gently, she pulled slightly away from Brittany. For a moment, Brittany almost whimpered, following Santana's skin before realizing what was happening and breaking away.

"Sorry," Brittany murmured, wiping her mouth and shaking her head, "I just got a little—"

"Shh, no," Santana whispered, reaching out to cup Brittany's cheek and run her thumb across the soft, deep pink plush of Brittany's lip. Silently praying that she wasn't being too presumptuous and making a huge fool of herself, Santana slipped her hands down to grip the hem of her sweatshirt, and the tank top that was underneath. Watching Brittany's blue eyes, more midnight than sky at the moment, Santana began to pull her tops up, revealing her stomach inch by inch, and then higher and higher. Brittany didn't stop her, she just stared, like Santana was a creme brûlée that she couldn't wait to devour.

Santana pulled the sweatshirt and tank top off and dropped them on the floor. She was bare from the waist up, and goosebumps erupted over her skin that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. Brittany took a step forward as soon as Santana's shirt hit the floor. Her hands wrapped around Santana's waist pulling her close as they kissed again, and Santana gasped at the feeling of her bare breasts pressed against the soft cotton of Brittany's t-shirt. As they kissed, Brittany reached for the hem of her own shirt, pulling it off between them, and Santana let out another sound, almost embarrassingly affected by the press of Brittany's skin against hers. She reached up, gliding her hands along Brittany's ribs until she could cup her hands around Brittany's breasts.

Brittany moaned as she pushed her hands into the back pockets of Santana's shorts, lifting her up and over the footboard at the end of her bed. Santana kicked off her converse and followed Brittany's lead, scooting backward across the bed, her mouth still pressed to Brittany's, one hand stroking circles around Brittany's nipple, and the other holding tightly to Brittany's back. As they lay against Brittany's pillows, Santana felt Brittany's fingers undoing the button of her shorts and she kicked them down her legs and off the bed, before reaching for Brittany's sweatpants. They landed in a heap somewhere near the desk.

For a moment, they slowed down, Brittany reaching out to tuck some of Santana's hair behind her ear and kissing her in a long, deep way that made the room spin around and around. Santana let her fingers drift over Brittany, mapping out the muscles of her arms and shoulders, the dip between her shoulder blades, the planes of her back and the curves of her breasts, until she was moving lower and lower across muscles that contracted under her fingers and, finally, coming to a stop at the waistband of Brittany's underwear.

Santana hesitated there. It was clear that this was where they were headed, but she wasn't sure how much thought Brittany had actually given this. Santana had wanted to be here since the moment that she had laid eyes on Brittany, a month earlier, but Brittany probably hadn't thought about it at all. She just wanted to give Brittany a chance to think, to decide if she wanted to go all the way or not.

"Please." Before she could even ask, Brittany had already answered. She tilted her hips up slightly and pulled away to look down at Santana's face. Her eyes were such a deep, dark blue, and her lips were such a kissable pink, that Santana felt breathless. To hear Brittany ask for what Santana wanted to give was almost too much to handle.

Pressing her lips against Brittany's again, Santana slid her hand down into Brittany's underwear. The warm wetness that met her fingertips sent shocks through her, and she couldn't help but cant her hips up slightly into Brittany's thigh. Santana looped her arm around Brittany's back, holding her as she slipped her fingers through Brittany's center. Slowly, she worked one finger into Brittany, watching Brittany's face the whole time, drinking in the changes in her eyes, the way that she bit her lip, the clench of her eyebrows. Santana wanted to remember each part of this for a long time to come. After a minute or two, Santana added a second finger, then swirled her thumb around the bundle of nerves that would hopefully help her make Brittany feel amazing.

Brittany rocked her hips against Santana's hand, drawing closer and closer to release. Santana pressed kisses against Brittany's collarbone and neck, nuzzling their noses together, watching and moving and stroking, until finally, Brittany's hips paused, and then she shuddered and sunk down on top of Santana, boneless and breathless.

Santana eased her fingers out of Brittany and wrapped both arms tightly across Brittany's back. It had been even better than she had hoped, all those weeks ago. Just watching Brittany come undone had almost been too much. She was gorgeous, a goddess for sure.

And now Santana wanted more. More time, more kisses, more moments, more of all of the things that they couldn't have.

Before Santana could get too deep into her head, Brittany pushed herself up from where she had been laying on Santana and pressed a deep kiss to her mouth. Santana gave in easily, opening up for Brittany without resistance. Brittany kissed down her jaw again, and her neck, but without the sweatshirt, there was nothing to stop her path. Each kiss, across her chest and over the swells of her breasts, the moment Brittany took to wetly kiss her nipple and the mark she sucked into the skin just above her stomach, each one only stoked the fire growing inside of Santana, until she was sure that she had never been more ready for anything in her life.

Brittany's fingers found the hem of her underwear and began to inch them down her hips. Santana reached down to wrap her fingers around Brittany's wrist, stopping her for a moment. "You don't have to," Santana whispered, looking up through her eyelashes, eyes heavy with arousal.

"I know," Brittany said, ducking her head to kiss the inside of Santana's wrist and then pulling Santana's underwear the rest of the way off. "But I want to. I've wanted to for a long time now."

Reeling from that knowledge, Santana missed the way that Brittany slid her body down until she felt warm breath on her center and Brittany's strong arms wrapping around her thighs.

It only took minutes, between how much Santana wanted Brittany and how good Brittany was, until Santana's back was arching with pleasure as Brittany gave her the best orgasm of her life.

* * *

Brittany woke up a while later with her arm looped around Santana's waist. After Santana had come, neither one of them had much they wanted to say, so Brittany had slipped out of bed, turning off the desk lamp and stepping out of her underwear, before slipping back into bed with Santana. They had done nothing more than kiss, soft and slow and sweet, until they had fallen asleep. It was still very early. The sky had just started to lighten at the horizon, which meant it was probably about three hours until breakfast, and neither of them had to rush off anywhere yet.

Since she had the chance, Brittany took the moment to look over Santana, as close as she had ever been able to get to her. She looked younger with her eyes closed like this, but just as pretty. Her dark eyelashes pressed against her cheeks. Her lips were parted slightly, and Brittany had to fight to keep from kissing them.

This probably wouldn't change anything. They definitely couldn't act any differently in front of their campers. It would be too much and too inappropriate to explain about any aspect of what had gone on behind Brittany's door the previous evening. People were always around during the day, milling about between activities and running back for things they had forgotten at their cabins. All night long, they each had a cabin full of girls to watch out for, and even if Brittany was okay with sneaking away, she knew that Santana would never be. This pretty much had to end in two and a half hours, perhaps the latest possible time that Santana could slip out of the cabin without being seen and Brittany wasn't anxious to end it any earlier by Santana waking up and wanting to rush out.

Even with what she was hoping, only a few minutes later, Santana's eyes began to flutter open, and then all at once, she was awake. She tensed for a moment and then relaxed into Brittany's arms.

"Hi," Brittany murmured.

"Hey," she whispered back, her voice adorably hoarse. "What time is it?"

"Around four-thirty," Brittany said. "You've got a little time."

"Okay." Santana shifted for a moment and then looked up into Brittany's eyes. "Do you mind if I, uh, stay for a bit?"

Brittany smiled. "I'd like that." Brittany just caught a glimpse of Santana's dimples before she laid her head down on Brittany's chest. They lay there in silence for a few moments until Brittany started to wonder if Santana had fallen back asleep.

"It's going to be really weird going back to competing against you after this," Santana said. Brittany laughed because it was only too true.

"Well, there's only one competition left," Brittany pointed out. Each cabin had to submit an act into the talent show on the last day of camp, which was judged by a panel of counselors.

"Don't say that," Santana said, pushing her nose further into the crook of Brittany's neck. "I really am just not ready for the end of this camp at all." She paused for a moment and then added, "Especially now."

"I know," Brittany whispered, rubbing her hand over Santana's back. They fell silent for a moment, and then an idea occurred to Brittany. "We're tied, you know? Right now in the standings, we both have twenty-six points. I mean, no one can catch either one of us at this point, but why don't we go out together?" She tried to ignore the way that her poor phrasing made her heart thud.

"Like, make an act with both of our cabins?" Santana said, thinking about it for a moment. "That sounds perfect. A dance. You have to teach them a dance. I've seen you move, I know you could do it." Brittany couldn't help but blush a little at Santana's compliment, which was so genuine and unexpected considering she'd hardly done any real dancing at camp, just a little bit of grooving when there was music playing in the mess hall or something like that.

"What song should we pick, then?" Brittany asked, stroking her fingers through Santana's hair.

"I'm not sure," Santana said, closing her eyes and tilting her head into Brittany's motions. Brittany smiled. "Let me, uh— We should write it down," she managed.

"I have some paper and a pen on my desk," Brittany offered, moving to untangle herself from the blankets and get it.

"Let me," Santana said, slipping out of bed. Goosebumps appeared immediately, and Brittany smiled as Santana paused to scoop up her sweatshirt from the night before and tug it on before continuing to the desk.

"Under the textbook," Brittany said, directing Santana so she could find it easier. Brittany watched as Santana shifted the book. Then, she froze. "Santana?" Brittany asked, a little concerned, wondering what could possibly be on her desk that would make Santana freeze up like that. Her mind was coming up blank and she was almost ready to climb out of the bed, when Santana turned around, holding the pad of paper and pen in her hand.

"Why do you have stuff from Northwestern?" she asked, her voice strange, as she held out the two items, both purple and emblazoned with the circular logo.

"Um," Brittany said, feeling a little bit of her old insecurity return. Maybe Santana really didn't think that she was smart enough to get into that school, even though she had only known her for a little more than a month and never really talked about any of that. "Because I'm going there in the fall?" It was more of a question than an answer.

Santana took a few steps closer, her face unreadable. "You're going to Northwestern? Like Evanston, Illinois Northwestern?"

"Yeah?" Brittany was feeling almost defensive.

"Oh my god," Santana breathed. She pressed her hand against her chest for a moment and just stood there.

"What, Santana? What is it?" Brittany finally couldn't take it and climbed out of bed, meeting Santana in the middle of the room and pulling the paper and pen out of her hands, tossing them back towards the desk. "What's the big deal with Northwestern?"

"I'm going to Northwestern," Santana said. "We're going to the same college."

For a moment, Brittany reeled. It was almost mind-boggling to realize that the woman standing in front of her, the one who had been the cause of a deep ache in her heart, knowing that they were going to go back to their hometowns and then off to college and not be able to continue whatever beautiful thing was blossoming between them, was not disappearing forever at the end of the next week. Instead, they could have a shot. They could be with each other.

Brittany tugged Santana close to her and pressed their lips together, all sweet desperation. Then, she broke away and scooped Santana up into her arms. "What are you doing?" Santana asked, with a laugh.

"I'm going to see if I can make you come before breakfast," Brittany said, setting her down on the bed and grinning as Santana laughed again. She kissed each dimple and then, crawled on top Santana. "Then we're going to figure out how close together our dorm rooms are."

"That sounds perfect," Santana whispered. She tilted her head up and kissed Brittany's mouth again, deep and longing.

And, for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, the Camp Kieve sweatshirt hit the ground.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: Thank you to JJ as always. This is the final of the four pieces I wrote for the Brittanacon Prompt Project. The camp is based on a mixture of a real place and my own experiences. With everyone going back to school and transitioning from summer to fall, it felt like a great time to finally publish this!


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